truggle with the powers
of darkness.

One day he ventured to express to Miss Arundel a somewhat hopeful view
of the future, but Miss Arundel shook her head.

"I do not agree with my aunt, at least as regards this country," said
Miss Arundel; "I think our sins are too great. We left His Church, and
God is now leaving us."

Lothair looked grave, but was silent.

Weeks had passed since his introduction to the family of Lord St.
Jerome, and it was remarkable how large a portion of his subsequent time
had passed under that roof. At first there were few persons in town,
and really of these Lothair knew none; and then the house in St. James's
Square was not only an interesting but it was an agreeable house. All
Lady St. Jerome's family connections were persons of much fashion, so
there was more variety and entertainment than sometimes are to be found
under a Roman Catholic roof. Lady St. Jerome was at home every evening
before Easter. Few dames can venture successfully on so decided a step;
but her saloons were always attended, and by "nice people." Occasionally
the cardinal stepped in, and, to a certain degree, the saloon was the
rendezvous of the Catholic party; but it was also generally social and
distinguished. Many bright dames and damsels, and many influential men,
were there, who little deemed that deep and daring thoughts were there
masked by many a gracious countenance. The social atmosphere infinitely
pleased Lothair. The mixture of solemn duty and graceful diversion, high
purposes and charming manners, seemed to realize some youthful dreams of
elegant existence. All, too, was enhanced by the historic character of
the roof and by the recollection that their mutual ancestors, as Clare
Arundel more than once intimated to him, had created England. Having had
so many pleasant dinners in St. James's Square, and spent there so
many evening hours, it was not wonderful that Lothair had accepted an
invitation from Lord St. Jerome to pass Easter at his country-seat.

CHAPTER 13

Vauxe, the seat of the St. Jeromes, was the finest specimen of the old
English residence extant. It was the perfection of the style, which had
gradually arisen after the Wars of the Roses had alike destroyed all
the castles and the purpose of those stern erections. People said Vauxe
looked like a college: the truth is, colleges looked like Vauxe, for,
when those fair and civil buildings rose, the wise and liberal spirits
who endowed them i